Hermes stumbling across a statue of himself — not because he was looking for it, but because it was just there, tucked away in some forgotten courtyard or overgrown field. And the moment is weirdly uncomfortable.
SCENE: “I Didn’t Ask for This”
EXT. ABANDONED GARDEN – EVENING
Hermes steps through rusted gates. Wildflowers crack through stone tiles. A wind chime made from old spoons jingles somewhere.
Then he sees it.
A statue.
Of him.
Frozen mid-stride, winged sandals, caduceus in hand, eyes too calm. Too noble. Too perfect.
Hermes (blinking):
“Huh.”
He walks up to it slowly, tossing a pebble that bounces off its foot.
Hermes:
“I didn’t ask for this. Like—at all.”
He stares at it. Then at himself. Then back.
Hermes (mocking the statue):
“Behold, me. God of trickery and divine Amazon Prime.”
He grins. Then frowns.
Because suddenly it hits him — this isn’t him.
Not really.
Hermes (softly):
“You don’t even look like me. You look like… who they wanted me to be.”
He sits down cross-legged in front of it. Pulls off his bucket hat.
A breeze rattles the leaves above.
Hermes:
“The real me trips over boxes and cries at flowers. The real me is not made of marble.”
He tosses the hat onto the statue’s head. It hangs awkwardly on one wing.
Godmode: Enabled 